


A New Song: Another Wolf Tail

by birdkeeperklink (speculating)



Series: Wolf Songs [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Don't copy to another site, Dwarf-wolves, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Frodo is a teeny tiny baby, Hobbit-wolves, M/M, Pocket-sized fiction, Thorin Oakenshield Is a Dork, Thorin is a Softie, Thorin loves his hobbit son, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, parentshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 03:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20735759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speculating/pseuds/birdkeeperklink
Summary: A summer full moon with Thorin, Bilbo, and their adopted nephew, Frodo.





	A New Song: Another Wolf Tail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [navyfeather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/navyfeather/gifts).

> I wasn't planning to write this, but it just kind of...happened. A huge thank-you to navyfeather, without whom this would not exist!
> 
> Happy Hobbit Day, everyone! ;)

It was a warm, lazy night, despite the full moon. It had been rather humid of late, so even in their wolf forms, none of the dwarves were interested in going on a hunt, preferring to sprawl out wherever they could catch a breeze.

That was fine by Bilbo, who’d been rather nervous about hunting anyway, now that the newest member of their family had arrived. Frodo was tiny in both forms, and prone to wandering off, so even if he didn’t manage to get trampled by hundreds of Dwarf-wolves, he might slip away from whoever was left behind to watch him and get lost or hurt.

And for once, Bilbo thought fondly, Thorin did not accuse him of being a worrywart when he voiced such thoughts. If anything, his husband was even more concerned about Frodo’s safety than he was! Why, just the other day, he had gone into a panic when Frodo disappeared from his bed, insisting that Dwalin put the entire royal guard out to search for the missing fauntling.

Dwalin would probably have been angry with Thorin when it turned out that Frodo was with Bilbo in the library the whole time, except none of the dwarves could seem to get angry when Bilbo’s tiny nephew was involved.

Thorin and Frodo were playing together now, Frodo yapping and leaping on Thorin, while Thorin lay very still and carefully mouthed at Frodo in what might generously be termed “play bites,” though Bilbo couldn’t see the slightest bit of actual biting, play or otherwise. He would likely pretend to be grievously injured soon, as he did when Frodo poked him with the little wooden sword Bifur had made for him. It delighted Frodo to no end, leaving the normally quiet child squealing with glee at Thorin’s melodramatic moaning and theatrical declarations of defeat.

He was Frodo’s favourite playmate for that very reason, much to the disappointment of the other dwarves--though they got their share of the fauntling’s attention.

Thorin had also been extremely concerned when it turned out that Frodo had not yet learnt to howl.

“But how will he get our attention?” he’d asked, just short of frantic. “What if he needs us? How will he sing with us?”

Bilbo had smiled and patted his hand. “There are other ways of getting our attention besides howling, and he’ll learn to howl from listening to us. You can’t rush these things--he’ll sing with us when he’s ready.”

Thorin hadn’t cared for that answer, but there was nothing he could do about it, so he let the matter be.

Singing together was the most important activity on a full moon--they even did so on nights like tonight, when they had no intention of hunting. From what Bilbo understood, baby Dwarf-wolves started learning to sing along with their ancient hunting song on their very first full moon after they were born.

“Hobbit-wolves aren’t like that,” Bilbo gently explained to his ridiculous dwarves the morning after Frodo’s first full moon with them. “It takes a while to develop our lungs enough, for starters.”

Dori nodded along in agreement with that, shooting a mournful look at Frodo, who was happily eating his breakfast and ignoring them.

“Secondly, since we fashion our family’s hunting song when we’re faunts, we have to listen and learn the notes of our parents’ songs before we can combine them into our own.” Bilbo paused, considering. “At least, first-borns do. I suppose the siblings to follow probably have it easier, but I never had any.”

And neither would Frodo, he reflected, a pang of grief following the thought.

“And lastly, Frodo is naturally going to have more difficulty. He was only just learning his parents’ songs, and now he’s got two completely new songs to learn and remember,” he added with forced cheer.

That, of course, led to all of his wonderful dwarves showering a giggling Frodo in cuddles and gentle forehead bumps, and the matter wasn’t brought up again. Thorin still looked concerned during their songs, as Frodo just sat on his tiny puppy haunches, his head tilted to one side and his eyes wide, but he seemed to accept it at last.

They always sang two songs--the traditional Dwarf-wolf hunting song, and Bilbo’s song, which had come to be known as the Company Song by the other denizens of Erebor. At first, he’d been flustered and somewhat embarrassed about that, but these days, it just made Bilbo feel a comfortable sense of belonging.

A loud, agonised howl broke Bilbo out of his musings. He huffed with amusement at the sight of Thorin, rolled onto his back with all four paws in the air, his head thrown back dramatically in an exaggerated “death howl.” Frodo was perched on top of him, a tiny dark lump on Thorin’s greying belly, his whippy little tail thrashing back and forth with his joy and excitement.

Bilbo and Thorin both went stock still and silent a moment later, as Frodo threw his head back and let out one small _“Aroo.”_

He blinked at them when he stopped. They blinked back. He sneezed, his oversized ears flapping, but before Thorin could descend into a panic, he tilted his head back again and howled, a little stronger this time. The others lifted their heads, ears pricking, and Bilbo wasn’t sure Thorin was even breathing.

The notes Frodo was singing registered after a moment, once Bilbo compensated for the warbly shakiness of his young, unpractised voice. His heart swelled as he recognised it--it was a combination of Bilbo’s song and the hunting song of the Dwarf-wolves, the beginnings of his own song about a big, happy family under a mountain.

He couldn’t manage much yet--only a couple of lines, far from a complete song, but enough that it was clear to Bilbo. His nose dropped when he ran out of air and he took a deep, huffing breath, looking around expectantly.

Then Thorin was on his feet, bounding around and around in circles, howling and yapping at every wolf in sight--even poor Tauriel, who he ignored more often than not. He leapt nimbly over her and Kíli where they were stretched out nearby, howling, _“He did it! He did it!”_ right in their faces before bounding over to Dwalin and Balin to give them the very same treatment. Tauriel shook her head, probably in an attempt to clear the ringing from her sensitive ears, but to her credit, she looked more amused than anything else.

Bilbo snorted and curled up around Frodo, who looked a bit dazed after his unceremonious slide off of Thorin’s belly, but pleased with himself nonetheless. He was more dignified about showing his nephew his pride and approval, nuzzling him and snuffling into his soft baby fur.

Thorin returned after sufficiently harassing the rest of their family, his tongue lolling out of one side of his mouth and his tail wagging as manically as Kíli’s when he wanted to play. He flopped down beside them, shoving his nose right up to both of theirs with a long satisfied groan.

Frodo licked Thorin’s nose as soon as it was in reach, a comical sight to Bilbo, as Frodo’s tongue wasn’t even half the size of Thorin’s broad nose pad. Less comical was the sight of his husband absolutely melting, his eyes warm and soft; Bilbo pretended he only needed to cough because of the humid air, as he certainly wasn’t choking up over any sentimentality!

That resolve cracked when Frodo yawned and snuggled into his side, curling up so small that he almost couldn’t be seen in the depths of Bilbo’s fur.

And it fell away entirely when Thorin curled himself around both of them, enveloping them in his big, warm, shaggy form, sighing contentedly as he laid his muzzle against Bilbo’s. It was entirely too muggy for this sort of cuddling, but….

Well, just for a while, it couldn’t hurt.

Bilbo nosed at Thorin’s neck and licked him across the snout. _“You big lug.”_

Thorin didn’t even bother to open his eyes, just let out that low, pleased rumble that Bilbo had come to cherish, and snuggled a little closer. Frodo sighed happily in his sleep, and Bilbo decided it was safe to rest his eyes with his two favourite people in the world tucked close to him--just for a moment.


End file.
